Hyperion
by BlueNavy
Summary: In a city toxic and corrupt, Lux and her team band together to combat the filth. Multiple F/F. SuperheroAU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I was re-reading some old DC comics and this happened. Although the descriptions only allowed for four, this story would probably feature an extensive cast of characters with some only making appearances later on in the plot-line. Pairings will mostly be f/f and characters' thoughts are written in italics.

Hope you guys read this using comic-goggles _._

Disclaimer: I own nothing. League of Legends belongs to Riot Games and the term 'metahumans' is coined by DC Comics.

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 **#1** **  
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 **VCPD Headquarters, Piltover District – 1.21 p.m.**

"That's the seventh one."

Caitlyn's voice is quiet but Vi hears the unmistakable roiling of anger beneath.

Setting her cup of lukewarm black coffee down on the table, she glances over at her partner who currently sits hunched over her desk, electric blue eyes glued to the case file in front of her.

Thin rays of afternoon light filter through the industrial blinds to the Caitlyn's left, casting shadows across the woman's striking features and making her appear more dour than usual.

Vi sighs.

There's just something about police work in this city that utterly depresses, and the office's interior décor—or lack thereof—does little to aid matters.

The four walls that house the Major Crimes Unit of the Valoran City Police Department are awash in shades of dull muted gray, with certain areas of the paintjob already cracking from age and wear. The working area itself, though relatively large and spacious, is perpetually dimly lit, something which Vi suspects is due to the higher ups being too cheap to replace the incandescent bulbs with fluorescent lamps. Police budget in this city has an uncanny way of staying short despite countless fundraising efforts.

Everywhere, detectives are busying about, taking calls, discussing cases, and it's easy to get all up in one another's asses since there are essentially no separating panels between desks, no private offices save for that of the Captain of major crimes.

It's at one of these multiple metal tables that Vi sits, fingers idly fiddling with a ballpoint pen as she eyes Caitlyn poring over her documents with some admirable focus, wholly undistracted by the hustle and bustle around.

When the first body (or whatever was left of it) had turned up at a random apartment north of the Zaun district, no one really batted an eyelid. Dead bodies turn up all the time in the city of Valoran, more so in the impoverished areas where mugging and assaults are commonplace. Yet, even with the public as desensitized as they are to such things, when seven bodies—seven, all killed with the same unorthodox and horrific M.O—started piling up within a short span of two weeks, people inevitably sit up and take notice.

Apart from the cause of death, the kills had appeared to be largely random, seemingly the act of a serial homicidal maniac. Vi had read through the preliminary reports herself and noted the absence of concrete leads. Needless to say, none of the detectives at MCU were particularly keen to tackle the case; not with police approval ratings at an all time low and the public out calling for blood.

But Caitlyn had volunteered.

 _Of course she did._ Vi is thinking as she watches her partner thumbs through a thick stack of photos before arranging them in an orderly grid on her desk.

"Burns, on all of them," the woman murmurs, mouth twisting in consternation as her finger lightly traces the grotesque markings on a closed up shot. "By gods, I've never seen anything like it. What do you reckon caused these?"

"Chemicals, from the looks of it." Vi slumps back in her chair before propping her feet up on the edge of her desk—it's a habit that has often earned the ire of her partner, not today. Today, Caitlyn is too preoccupied to even notice.

"Yes, that was my first thought too. These look an awful lot like chemical burns, but the latest lab results came back negative. It states here there were no traces of known chemical compounds found on the victims' bodies or at the crime scene."

"Odd."

"Odd indeed," faint creases appear on Caitlyn's forehead. "We could be dealing with something newly synthesized, or worse—the work of a Meta."

"God, I hope not. I'm not sure the Valoran Supermax can handle any more of those at this point."

Metahumans give Vi a throbbing headache. They are people born with a chromosomal aberration that grants them superhuman abilities, with these abilities varying from person-to-person depending on the make-up of their metagene. While some of these powers have been known to be relatively harmless or even useful (i.e. the gift of healing), Vi has come across others that are downright destructive, especially when placed in the wrong hands. From experience, the frequency of the latter seems far more prevalent and there's just something about power that corrupts. The local university has done an in-depth study on this once, detailing how the statistical average of metahumans engaging in criminal activities outstrips that of normal human beings by three-folds.

Perhaps it is fortunate then, that the probability of a human born with the metagene is incredibly rare, less than 0.01 percent occurrence in the general population. Then there's also the fact that the gene is latent and undetectable by current medical science, with implications of this being there's no way to determine who possesses the gene at birth.

"Well, we can cross that bridge once we get to it," Caitlyn is saying as she massages her temple with her left hand while her right scribbles tirelessly on a legal pad. "Right now we still need to work out the connection between the victims and figure out why they were targeted."

"Hmm," Vi hums as she flips through her own dossier. "Preliminary investigation suggests no apparent correlation between victims. There's nothing that indicates they'd even known each other and their physical profiles vary in terms of age, sex, race, blood type, et cetera, so it doesn't appear they were targeted because of some specific trait."

Caitlyn pauses in the midst of her furious scribbling then, glancing up at Vi before chewing on the tip of her pen.

It's a recurring thing she does whenever she is deep in thought, and Vi is almost positive Caitlyn isn't even aware of the dirty habit. Not that Vi actively observes her partner, of course. People just tend to pick up certain things about others when they've worked together a spell.

"Ok, but differences aside, let's talk similarities." Caitlyn takes the pen out of her mouth and begins clicking on the tip in rapid succession; another nervous habit. "So, we know all victims were found dead in their places of residence with the time of death between one and four in the morning. Looking at their financial statements, they hailed from low-income households and resided in the poorer districts of Zaun and Bilgewater."

 _Click, click, click, click, click.  
_  
Caitlyn's furious pen-clicking echoes through their corner of the bullpen.

"Considering nothing was missing from their persons or residences, we can probably cross out robbery and other such related crimes. I mean, these people didn't even own much to begin with."

"You think it's possible some sick bastard is going on a random house killing spree for fun?" Vi proposes. It's happened before.

"My gut tells me that's not it. These attacks seemed far too planned out to be random, and the tracks too neatly covered. In fact, they feel almost like assassinations."

"Mob related?"

"Bodies that turn up in Valoran usually are." Caitlyn's mouth forms a grim line. "Mostly it's the mob that dares pull off something this showy. But that's where I'm stumped. Why go after these people? I mean this guy, look, this guy is a kindergarten teacher for godsakes, and this other lady here, she works full time as a janitor at the C-Mart near her house. No prior affiliations with the mob either."

 _Click, click, click, click, click.  
_  
The pen-clicking grows more flustered.

"There's a pattern here I'm not seeing, yet."

 _Click, click, click, click, click._

"Hey girls," there's a disruption in Vi's train of thought as Jayce, resident white knight of MCU, shuffles over to their desks.

"I'm heading out to grab some lunch, you girls want anything?" He asks, casually leaning against Caitlyn's desk as he sneaks a peek over her shoulder.

"Woah, is that what I _think_ it is?" His eyes widen when he spots the photographs laid out neatly on her table. "Don't tell me the higher ups actually dumped that case on your asses?"

"Cait volunteered." Vi remarks dryly, jerking a thumb at her partner, who hasn't once looked up to acknowledge Jayce's presence.

"Go figure." Jayce laughs. "It's a tough case, but hey, if you guys are lucky, maybe one of those capes swinging around will solve the case for ya, huh?" He claps Caitlyn playfully across her back.

The comment (and unwarranted physical contact) earns him a scathing glare from the raven-haired woman.

"Very funny, Jayce. Please don't get me started on how those vigilantes are just as lawless as the rest of them. In fact, two fortnights ago, I had to answer a call in the middle of the night because some vigilante, this _Enforcer,_ or whatever it is they call themselves, smashed right through the brick walls of a church in pursuit of a two-bit art thief and—"

"Moonwalker," Jayce cuts in. "Two-bit art thief you were talking about? Goes by the name Moonwalker."

Caitlyn waves a hand dismissively. "Right, Moonwalker, whatever. Thing is, if I ever come across this _Enforcer_ smart-ass, I'm placing them in handcuffs for destruction of private property."

Vi sips her coffee.

"The fuzzy ones?" Jayce quips, and promptly withers as Caitlyn shoots him a look that can freeze hell.

"Harsh," he pouts. "Still, you can't deny this city needs them. They balance out all the bad and are helpful in countering the meta-villain situation."

"I agree they can be useful at times. But laws are laws. There should be no double standards when it comes to enforcing them. If a vigilante, like this _Enforcer_ , breaks the law, I will arrest them on sight, simple as that." Caitlyn's tone is clipped as she looks Jayce in the eye.

The man holds up both hands in mock surrender and glances back at Vi, who only shrugs.

Being a stickler for rules, everyone in the department is well aware of Caitlyn's sentiments towards masked vigilantes and know better than to start with her.

"What is it about having power that makes people do bad things?" Caitlyn muses as she regards Jayce's retreating back.

Funny, sometimes Vi wonders the same thing too.

"You'd think they'd use their abilities for something constructive. Something good."

 _Good, bad_. _What_ do _those words even mean in this city anymore?_

The phone on Caitlyn's desk rings. She picks it up.

"Detective Fitzwilliam, MCU." There's a pause, then a knot in her brows as her lips curve downwards. Whatever she's hearing on the other end, it ain't anything good.

"Grab your jacket, cupcake," Caitlyn says as she puts the receiver down. "We've got ourselves another body down by the harbor."

"Burns and all?" Vi asks, rising from her chair.

"Yes." Caitlyn's face is somber as she shrugs on her deep purple overcoat. "Just when you think the city can't get any worse, it always surprises you."

 _It sure does_. Vi is thinking. This city is funny like that.

 **Lux's apartment, Demacia district – 3.35 p.m.**

"—eighth in a string of gruesome murders plaguing the city. The police are presently at the crime scene conducting an investigation, and we have reached out to the police commissioner to provide us with a statement—"

Sitting in the study area of her exorbitant penthouse decorated in bright minimalistic tones, Lux's fingers hover above the keys of her laptop as she pauses in her work, eyes flickering to the display of her flat panel television situated near the front of the room.

The screen cuts to a footage of commissioner Laurent, clad in an expensive looking navy skirt-suit, matched with a pearl-white satin blouse, addressing the press:"—we are in the midst of identifying the victim and though we can't provide any more details at this point for fear of compromising ongoing investigations, I would like to assure the public that the VCPD are trying their utmost to bring the relevant perpetrators to justice and that we are committed to—"

Lux tunes it out.

She's heard the pitch a thousand times before and yet, the city is still as toxic as it has always been. The past two years alone, crime rates in Valoran have spiked a total of 39.314 percentage points.

Lux knows this, because she's done her own research where the media and authorities have been less than forthcoming.

Most of the crimes that happened these days either go unpublished in the news or simply swept under a rug, but even then, there's only so far one can go in hiding these things. It doesn't take statistics for people to notice how the streets are physically brimming with miscreants of all sorts committing thefts, robberies, burglaries and other felonies out in broad daylight.

And why should these criminals be afraid?

Why should anyone fear the repercussions of their misdeeds when there are police officers, councilmen, judges—people in positions of power—sitting snugly in the back pockets of mob bosses and crime lords who mask their illicit dealings under the guise of legitimate businesses?

It's sickening to Lux how corrupt the city is.

On-screen, commissioner Laurent's smile is white and all teeth: "—and we will do everything in our power to safeguard our citizen's welfare, endeavoring to make this city a better place for—"

Lux turns the TV off.

 **VCPD headquarters, Piltover District – 8.41 p.m.**

"Another late night?" Vi pauses by her partner's desk on the way out.

The woman looks up briefly—and Vi can't help but notice how _bleary_ and _bloodshot_ her eyes are—before glancing down at her watch.

"Gosh, I guess so. I haven't realized how late it's gotten."

Caitlyn does this often. The woman takes her job too seriously and Vi isn't sure how late Caitlyn stays at times. The instances where Vi clocks in extra hours, Caitlyn has always managed to outdo her by staying even later, and recently, Vi's been hearing whispers circulating the locker rooms that Caitlyn actually _sleeps_ in the office—though she brushes that off as a wild exaggeration. Then again, she hasn't exactly seen Caitlyn _physically leave_ the office in the past week.

 _Girl needs a break._ Vi is thinking as her gaze roams over the worn and tired woman sitting huddled before a mountain of paperwork.

For a brief moment, the briefest moment, she considers asking Caitlyn out for dinner on the weekends, someplace nice and relaxing with good food and good wine.

But an odd feeling stirs up in the pits of her stomach then, a flutter of _something_ that's accompanied by a flicker of fear that Caitlyn might actually say no. Vi stops herself.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She asks.

But her partner has already turned her attention back to the stacks of paper on her desk.

"So many bad guys, so little time." Vi hears her mumble as she leaves.

 **Bilgewater District – 12.21 a.m.**

Night, and the Bilgewater housing district is still as death. There's a common misconception for bad neighborhoods to be rowdy and rambunctious even in the wee hours, that is not so. Certainly, there are episodic moments of chaos when something bad goes down, but most days, the inhabitants of the area know better than to venture out after hours. Not if they want to risk being robbed, shot at, or worse.

High on the rooftop of a non-descript apartment building, a lone figure crouches low in the shadows near the edge, muscles coiled as they scan the surrounding streets and alleyways below.

 _Still. Everything is still._

Subtlety really isn't Vi's strong suit, her specialty gearing more towards punching people and making sure it hurts. But Lux has specific instructions detailed in her mission brief, and although Vi didn't quite retain all the blather, she gathered it entails some stakeout of sorts.

"Blondie, do you copy? I'm at the location you've sent." Vi's tone is hushed as she speaks into the microphone built into the collar of her costume. The communication device is top-of-the-line; something Vi has designed herself much like the rest of her superhero gear.

Despite being an ordinary human with no meta abilities, Vi's prodigious skills in engineering, coupled with her innovative spirit, has enabled her to develop cutting edge equipment that sets her on a level playing field when dealing with dangerous threats and metas.

The very source of her powers (and her ultimate prized possession) stems from a pair of matted gray gauntlets, crafted entirely from military grade titanium that awards lightweight functionality without compromising on durability. It used to be made from aluminum and bronze parts she'd scraped together down at the local junkyard, but since joining Lux's team nine months ago—if two even makes a team—certain resources have become—well, available.

When activated, her gauntlets grant her superhuman strength and allow her to lift hefty objects with ease. On more than one occasion, it has also allowed her the nifty trick of creating shortcuts by punching through walls, although this last part, she reminds herself to do less often since Caitlyn's earlier comment has struck a nerve.

Apart from super-strength, the leg plates (made from similar titanium) attached to the calf area of her boots are rigged with a propulsion mechanism that enables her to move at increased speed and give her a supercharged speed burst at will. The rest of her costume consists of a one piece, dual-toned suit of bright yellows—she's done this so the bad guys would be able to spot her from a mile out, which makes it _fair,_ in her humble opinion—but it also makes her a walking Christmas tree when it comes to stealth missions like these, which speaking of, she ought to talk to Lux soon about possible new member recruitment, perhaps someone with a separate skill set to balance out her own.

"Blondie?" Vi asks, and repeats, her pink-mirrored goggles registering no signs of hostiles.

The oversized goggles (equipped with night vision, infrared and binocular capabilities) serve a dual function of enhancing her sight as well as preserving her civilian identity by masking about three quarters of her face. Maintaining one's identity is important to vigilantes, and prudent too, if one wishes to safeguard their loved ones from harm. To that end, Vi has also donned a bright blue wig over her natural tresses, figuring her pink hair would be too telling to anyone who looks close.

"Blondie—Lux?"

 _What's that girl doing? Bathroom break? This isn't call-of-duty online._

There's a soft crackling of static as Lux's familiar voice sounds out through Vi's earpiece.

"Yes, I'm here, sorry for the delay. I've got eyes on you."

There's some degree of comfort in hearing Lux's voice and knowing there's someone out there watching your back. Though certain capes prefer solitary action, Vi personally thinks it's a boon to have a partner in this line of work, especially one as competent as Lux.

The girl can hack her way into most security grids and mainframes without so much as breaking a sweat, and this makes her a tremendous asset when it comes to providing up-to-the-minute intel as well as coordinating and organizing an op. Having prior experience out on the field doesn't hurt either; Lux knows exactly where the pitfalls are and what practical details to look out for in order to ensure smooth running of an op. And even though Lux insists she's more useful behind a screen, Vi has seen the girl in action before to know she's a force to be reckoned with out on the field as well.

In the early beginnings of their partnership, Lux had engaged her as an agent to help take down a fanatic cult that worships an ancient evil being called _Vilemaw_. Back then, Vi was just starting to make a dent in the Valoran crime scene, patrolling the streets at night and slowly dismantling drug and burglary rings as they come.

On hindsight, Vi suspects Lux's proposal was probably an excuse to assess her capabilities and work ethics for future collaboration, something like a preliminary trial of sorts. She's fine with that since the experience gave her an opportunity to appraise Lux as well, and from what she'd seen, the girl is something else. Lux's meta abilities to bend and manipulate light had been particularly useful for stealth drops and tactical ambushes, not to mention, her laser ability—Final Spark, came in pretty handy during a pinch.

At the end of that mission, with the successful disbandment of the cult in one night, both had found the other's methods and objectives to be agreeable and had stuck together until now.

"You gonna tell me why I'm perched on this roof?" Vi is asking.

"Yes. I'll get to that in a bit. First, a brief update on the chemical killings." There's a pause on the other end and Vi hears the furious clacking of computer keys in the background before Lux continues. "I've managed to uncover the common denominator. Two months ago, it would appear that all victims participated in some kind of drug trial for Pharmex Industries."

"All eight of them?"

"Affirmative. Highly doubtful coincidence if you ask me."

"Pharmex Industries. Why does the name sound so familiar?"

"That's because it is. It's a biopharmaceutical company that made headlines recently with the high profile procurement of—"

"—of a cluster of wastewater treatment plants, yes I remember now. I read about that in the news."

"Right, and you may also be acquainted with the company's CEO who's a prominent figure in Valoran."

"Yeah?"

"Darius Sangre."

Vi exhales. "Of the Noxian crime mob?"

"The very one."

It seems Caitlyn was right, the mob may be involved after all. Going up against the Noxian crime mob is always tricky. For the past few decades, they have been dedicated in branching out and building up an intricate network of ties within the local government (mostly by buying people over or installing them in with deep pockets) as well as in key corporations that contribute to the city's overall economy. What this means is that crusading against the mob is almost always a fruitless endeavor, seeing how their head honchos possess enough clout to get away scot-free with nearly any foul deed.

"Do you know what the drug tests are for?"

There's a brief pause on the other end and Vi hears more clacking of keys.

"Not at this moment, no. The information I've gathered thus far was hard to get a hold of as it is."

"Hard? I didn't think that was in your vocabulary."

"Well true, but it's definitely more of a challenge. Whoever ran these trials went through great lengths to keep it off record and ensuring they stay that way. There were no mention of it in any of the company's official logbooks, nor were there any virtual paper trail that indicates this project even existed. If I hadn't tracked the victims' travel patterns through their subway cards and bus passes over the past six months—oh, I inferred the travel patterns when I tapped into their bank statements. In retrospect, I'm guessing they were offered money for their supposed participation in this mysterious trial, though there's no evidence of a money trail either, so my guess is they were paid in cash or in some other way—and cross-referenced that data with footage from traffic surveillance cameras as well as internal surveillance at Pharmex, I wouldn't have spotted the association."

"Yeah, but you did." Vi rolls her eyes. Lux loves to ramble on about her thought process in reaching a particular conclusion.

 _Oh, it's elementary, my dear Enforcer._ Vi mimics Lux's voice in her head.

"Yes I did, and then I ran their—"

"Ok. I get it, great job. Now, can you just tell me why I'm here? You can save the story-telling for bedtime."

Lux snorts.

"Well, that was just what I was getting to. Long story short, there's a ninth and final participant in this mystery drug trial."

Vi frowns. She's pretty sure she knows where this is going.

"Vincent Surello. He lives in the apartment complex across from the one you're at now. Second floor, third window from the left."

Vi shifts her gaze to where Lux has indicated, noting the dim lights spilling through barred windows and the silhouette of a prone figure resting on a bed as she switches to binocular vision.

"I see him." Vi grunts. Though it's a redundant report since her goggles have recently been updated with a recording function that enables Lux to view whatever she is seeing back at base.

"If the trend is any indication, our serial killer would be gunning after him next and I want to make sure we don't end up with another body bag. If we're lucky, we get to kill two birds with one stone and find out more about these supposed drug trials. I have a feeling we're barely scratching the tip of the iceberg here."

Vi is guessing the next part would consist of that stakeout Lux's mentioned earlier. She's basically being put on baby-sitting duty—important, life-saving, but still, baby-sitting duty nonetheless. Maybe she should have brought along some magazine to kill time, perhaps set up a beach chair on the roof, gotten some cold beer and—

"Vi!" Lux's voice, loud and jarring, crackles to life in her ear.

Vi's hand instinctively flies to her earpiece. "Ugh, no need to shout, I can hear you."

"There's someone on the roof with you!"

"What? Where?" Whipping around, Vi scans the area behind, methodically scoping the grounds inch by inch. "You sure, Blondie? I'm not seeing anything, nor am I picking up any heat signatures."

"It was for the briefest moment, but camera two on the south edge just registered a figure. Stay alert Vi, you are not alone."

Stepping away from the edge of the roof, the Enforcer hunkers down into a defensive position, gauntlets raised in front of her as she braces herself for possible confrontation. At the moment, she's more than a little confused as to what Lux is talking about since there isn't a single soul in sight, not as far as she could tell anyway. But still, she trusts Lux, and the girl doesn't make mistakes often.

 **Lux's Base, Undisclosed Location – 12.51 a.m.**

Seated in front of her supercomputer, bathed in the warm blue glow of multiple flat screen monitors, Lux's mind races as her fingers dexterously work the keys on her keyboard, pulling up a freeze frame that was taken not ten seconds ago from rooftop surveillance.

The image is blurred and pixilated, but with a few clicks of her mouse, it starts to sharpen and enhance.

The resulting quality is still far from high definition but it's just about clear enough for Lux to make out a slim humanoid figure, clad in black pants and some short black crop top, bent low in the midst of springing a jump. There's a distinct flow of red hair that extends down the figure's back, and though their features are partially concealed by a dark black mask and (what seems like) black face paint around the eyes, Lux runs their profile through facial recognition software and law enforcement databases anyway. If this person is a masked villain of some sort, chances are there exists records of them that might help shed light on their motivations and capabilities.

 **Bilgewater District – 12.56 a.m.**

The rooftop area isn't awfully big, and Vi is certain she has double, triple checked every hidden corner by now.

 _No sign of anything._

Whoever was here had seemingly up and disappeared into thin air.

"Beep, beep." There's a soft beeping from Vi's earpiece as Lux's computer registers a hit.

"Vi. I've got something. There's not much record on her—it's a woman, I think—but VCPD files contain information on a masked character fitting her physical description. From what I gather, they call her the Sinister Blade and she's wanted for two counts of first-degree aggravated assault—"

At that instance, a heat signature spike shows up on Vi's goggles and not two seconds later, a lean figure materializes about twelve paces in front of her.

"Fuck. I see her. She's meta. I think she's a fucking _blinker_." Vi grunts, cutting Lux off midsentence.

 _Wanted. Assault— **criminal.**_

The thoughts cycle through Vi's head as she launches herself at the newcomer, speed enhanced by both adrenaline and her leg plates. Spiraling forward, she succeeds in tackling the figure down and landing a good solid punch right to their sternum.

It's a relatively hard knock and there's a sharp, audible whoosh as air rushes out of the figure's lungs while they double over, wheezing from the impact.

People normally stay down after one hit from the Enforcer, yet, the figure somehow manages to recover with surprising resilience, wrestling themselves out of Vi's grip and _fucking teleporting_ away before Vi can draw back her gauntlet to land an incapacitating blow on the liver.

"Vi, Vi?" Lux's voice calls through the earpiece.

There's a glint of silver in Vi's peripheral vision and, acting on sheer reflex, she tucks into a roll, narrowly evading the blade as it whistles past and lodges into flat concrete.

Vi stares at the blade embedded in the ground; she's never seen a throw like that before. For a small blade to be thrown with such force that it wedges a half inch dead into concrete— _that can't be pure skill_.

"A little busy here." Vi's jaw clenches as she spots another three blades hurtling in her direction.

Lifting her gauntlets, she succeeds in deflecting the first two, but the last one flashes by fast and sinks into tender flesh right below her left clavicle.

Vi bites back a cry.

 _Too careless._

"Vi, Vi. Stop punching for a moment—"

"Kinda hard to do when there's someone trying to kill me." The blade has tagged her deep and the yellow fabric surrounding the wound is starting to seep a dark maroon.

"Listen. The Sinister Blade's weapons of choice are blades and knives."

"Yeah, kinda got that figured out." Even as she's speaking, Vi sees another flash of silver in the moonlight; yet another blade flying towards her.

 _This woman's like a goddamn porcupine._

Vi side-steps in time, knocking the blade back with a resounding clang and watching with some satisfaction as it clatters uselessly to the ground.

"No, you are not _listening_. The Sinister Blade's methods don't fit that of the chemical killer's, and you didn't let me finish my sentence earlier—the two counts of aggravated assault, they were on men affiliated with the Noxian crime mob."

"What are you implying?" Vi asks, brows furrowing. "That she could be on the same side?"

"Maybe, if you stop punching her long enough, you can find out."

Vi highly doubts this _Sinister Blade_ character is on their side. Whatever motives this woman possesses, it's likely to be self-serving.

 _Speaking of, where is that wily little prick?_

During her brief conversation with Lux, the redhead has danced out of Vi's immediate vision and is now nowhere in sight.

"You gonna show yourself?" Vi calls out as she reaches below her left collarbone, wincing while she plucks the blade out from her wound (removal of the foreign object when impaled is not advisable to do, but Vi's survived much worse).

"Or you gonna continue playing games?" She tosses the blade aside.

Behind her, a deep, menacing voice grinds out. "You talking to me, or you still talking to yourself?"

"I'm talking to you. You have good reason to be here?" Vi swivels around, but the woman has already vanished in a mist of red **.**

 _Fuck. That's annoying._

"Do you?" The redhead deadpans, re-appearing a distance away near the rooftop access.

Palpable tension mounts the air as both women stand stock-still facing one another, neither one making a move. Taking advantage of the brief ceasefire, Vi lets her gaze rove over the other woman's physique in cold appraisal.

The Sinister Blade stands at an average height, perhaps a good three inches shorter than Vi. There's an aura of danger that surrounds her, made more prominent by the way the woman carries herself, with movements balanced between feral fluidity and disciplined control. Her attire itself is nothing arresting _—_ she is garbed in a pair of figure-hugging, black _leather_ pants, matched with a black _leather_ half-jacket, worn over a short, black _leather_ crop top ( _crop top or bra?_ ) that shows off her toned abdominals as well as a mess of tribal design ink spanning the side of her left torso. Heavy black _leather_ boots, embellished with sharp metallic spikes at the calves, adorned her feet, while around her waist and thighs strapped an impressive arsenal of silver blades and daggers—

 _—Oh god. Did this woman take a wrong turn and miss the BDSM Barbie convention._ Vi is thinking, before her muscles tauten when she spots the Sinister Blade reaching down to slide a thin, silver blade out from the hold in her waist-belt, making a show of twirling it deftly between gloved ( _leather_ ) fingers.

Vi knows a thinly veiled threat when she sees one.

"Vincent Surello, you know him?" She ventures, gauntlets flexing while she discreetly spreads her feet apart—the stance would make it easier to dodge if the Sinister Blade decides to let fly.

"What's it to you?"

"We could be working the same angle. Word is you have a beef with the Noxian crime mob. So do I. Maybe we can compare notes. Show me what you've got and I'll show you mine."

The Sinister Blade visibly stiffens, nimble fingers pausing in mid twirl before shifting to grip the blade tightly in a fist. Even in the dim moonlight, Vi sees the woman's eyes narrowing.

"I don't work with idiots." There's a shift in the air around her, then an abrupt mist of red as the woman disappears again, although this time round when she reappears, it's mere steps in front of Vi.

The proximity unsettles the Enforcer, and puts every inch of her body on guard, but still, she doesn't flinch.

"Listen," There's something simmering beneath the redhead's voice. "I don't know who you are or what you think you know about me but—if you are thinking of going after Singed, _don't_. He is mine—"

 _Singed? Who the hell is that?_

"—stay the fuck out of my way, I'm not going to warn you twice."

There are all manner of questions swirling in Vi's head, but before she can craft a response, Lux's voice comes through the earpiece.

"Vi. Traffic cams on South Street just picked up a black van turning down your block before changing directions midway and tearing off."

"What—South Street? Civilian vehicle?" Vi asks while still keeping a wary eye on the unfriendly redhead. There's a brief flicker of confusion in the woman's eyes ( _sea-green_ , Vi notes), which fades away when she catches on that Vi is conversing with a third party.

"Negative. I ran the plate; it's a stolen number. Traces back to nowhere."

Vi huffs.

"Looks like your pals turned tail and ran." She says, addressing the Sinister Blade as she looks the woman dead in the eye.

Something passes across the redhead's features before her lips form an imperceptible quirk downwards. "You think I'll take your word?"

Vi only shrugs, and the other woman's mouth twists further into an ugly snarl.

"Fucking idiot," She finally spits, some measure of composure slipping away. "If I could spot you from a mile out, so could they. Listen to me, you fucking neon light, if I ever see you again, I'm going to kill you."

With that, the woman blinks away.

"I was standing in the shadows before you came." Vi mutters mirthlessly, but the redhead did not reappear on the roof.

Seconds later, Vi hears the roar of engine starts up from one of the alleyways down the streets, followed by a loud screeching of tires. Rushing to the roof's edge, she catches a flash of red on black as a sleek motorbike tears down the block, speeding towards the direction of South Street.

"Shit. Should I chase after?" Vi throws a quick glance at the apartment room where Surello is, then back down at the glow of taillights fading fast into pinpricks.

"Negative," Lux's reply is prompt. "My computer just registered distress signals from Surello's thermal signature picked up from your goggles. I need you to go check on him; his safety is top priority. Don't worry about Sinister Blade and the van, I'm tracking them through traffic and city surveillance as we speak."

Vi cusses under her breath.

"I'm on it."

* * *

 **A/N** : I initially wanted the first chapter to be an unbroken 9k+ words, but thought better of it and broke it down into two parts instead to make it more palatable. Anyway, if you've read this chapter till the end, thank you. Please feel free to leave a review or suggestion.

 **Costume note** : Vi's superhero costume is meant to resemble her neon strike skin.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes found below.

* * *

 **#2  
**

* * *

 **Bilgewater District – 1.27 a.m.**

 _Emergency, it's an emergency._

Vi tells herself as she leaps the whole three stories down from the rooftop, landing with an ear-splitting crack on the asphalt.

 _Possible life or death emergency._

She is thinking minutes later as she barrels through the front door of Vincent Surello's apartment, sending splinters of wood careening everywhere.

The lights in the immediate area are off, but the Enforcer sees just fine in the dark. From her expeditious scan of the room, there seems nothing visibly amiss, nothing peculiar abound—save for a soft wheezing coming from the direction of (where she infers to be) the master bedroom.

"Hello?" She calls out, nose puckering in reflex as she heads there.

The air in the apartment is stale, almost to the point of being oppressively so, and it smells the way certain houses tend to when their inhabitants neglect the washing of the dishes or the laundry for days on end. There's a veritable hoard of clutter strewn about the ground, making it difficult for Vi and her sizeable gauntlets to navigate—whatever square feet not occupied by cheap plastic furniture, it's covered in stacks of old newspaper bundled in twine or torn cardboard boxes filled to the brim with worthless trinkets.

"Surello? Mr Surello?" Vi calls again, voice sounding out hollow in the enclosed space.

Maybe it's the disquieting stillness, or perhaps the stifling rankness exacerbated by glass windows drawn tight against the stiles. Whatever the case, something about the state of affairs fills Vi with a sense of foreboding, and the Enforcer can feel the tension locked taut in her joints as she makes her way down a lone, narrow hallway that comes to an end in front of a flimsy vinyl door _._

"Mr Surello? You in there?" Vi brings her gauntlets up in two urgent raps.

No response, apart for the wheezing coming from within.

Turning the brass knob, Vi steps into the room, mind switched on high alert.

The first thing she notices is a body—Surello's—sprawled at odd angles across the carpeted ground.

The unnatural slant of the man's limbs crumpled beneath his frame possibly indicates he might have been in the midst of getting out of bed when something rendered him immobile and caused him to fall to the current awkward state.

 _Was he assaulted?_

Alarm bells sounded in Vi's head.  
 _  
_Given the circumstances, that is one likely assumption.

But an ensuing sweep of the room and the grounds outside the window reveals no presence of lurking hostiles or dangers on site. And despite the general mess of the room—consistent with that out in the living area—there aren't any signs of a struggle having taken place either.

 _So what the hell happened here?  
_

Triggering the release on her gauntlets, Vi sets it leaning against the doorframe before approaching the fallen man in long strides, mind racing as she tries to recall the initial action steps from her emergency first aid courses.

' _GO DR SHAVPU'—thank god for mnemonics.  
_

"Hello, I am here to help you. Are you alright?" She enunciates clearly, kneeling down by the man's side as she taps him firmly on the shoulders.

At her touch, the man stirs, fingers scuffling weakly against the frayed carpet while the sound of his breathless wheezing changes into something akin to a muffled, liquid moan.

"H-hru—" he utters something; something monosyllabic. Though the Enforcer can't quite make out the word, the way it's spoken—quite literally squeezed out and gurgled from the larynx—sends an involuntary pulse of chills down her spine.

But she promptly shakes it off and gears herself, nimble fingers glossing across the man's skin as she feels for the pulse rate over his carotid.

 _Level of responsiveness, P on the AVPU scale—_ she determines while her off-hand flies up to her earpiece.

"Blondie, come in. Blondie."

The girl's attentions must have been focused on other tasks because it takes a beat longer than wonted before the familiar burst of static crackles to life in Vi's ear.

"I'm here."

"Blondie, we've got a civilian casualty on hand. I need you to call an ambulance. Right now."

"Surello—was he attacked?"

"Unclear, no perceivable indications. When I found him, he was semi-conscious and exhibiting signs of heart arrhythmia, shortness of breath, as well as a general spike in body temperature. It's a rudimentary assessment, but symptoms could indicate a stroke or heart attack."

"Dialing dispatch as we speak," Lux replies. "Stay with him Vi, I want you to continue monitoring his vitals before aid arrives."

"Gotcha," Vi affirms, one hand already traveling down the man's pajamas shirt, loosening the top few buttons, while her other hand ranges lightly over the man's limbs. _Doesn't seem like anything's broken._

"Mr Surello, I'm going to commence moving you into recovery position. If you experience any discomfort while I do so, let me know, or give a signal, ok?" _  
_

The reply that follows is unintelligible, coming out as yet another wet, phlegmy gurgle. Vi expects as much, but still, it's customary procedure.

Cautiously, she takes hold of the man's left arm, adjusting it such that it lies at a right angle to the rest of his body before tucking his other hand beneath the underside of his head. Bending his right knee at a perpendicular angle _,_ she then pulls on the appendage, carefully rolling the man onto his side.

The position, as opposed to one that is supine, would help the casualty maintain an open airway by preventing mechanical and fluid obstruction in the pharynx.

During her time in the VCPD, Vi has come across one too many cases whereby a casualty's loss of consciousness, initially non-fatal, turns out to be when they suffer from hypoxia due to airway blockage. Such cases, Vi has always found to be tragic since death could have otherwise been averted with proper first aid technique. Not that many even bother to educate themselves in first aid these days. Certainly not in Valoran, at least. People too busy looking after their own asses and no one really wants to be liable for the life of someone else.

"10 minutes." Lux's voice through the earpiece.

"Understood," Vi says, before placing a reassuring hand on the fallen man's shoulders. "Hold on a second longer, Mr Surello. You are gonna be fine, there's already an ambulance on the way."

But even as she mouths out the words, she can't help but feel a gnawing feeling of unease settling down in the pits of her stomach.  
 _  
Off-the-books clinical trials; the Sinister Blade's appearance; a fleeing van with a stolen plate—now we have a man lying unconscious in his own home._

 _What's the association?_

It's entirely too coincidental how events seem to be lining up. _  
_  
"Blondie?" She calls into her microphone again. "Do me a favor? Pull up medical history files on Vincent Surello."

A small stretch of silence ensues before there's a crackle of static from the other end.

"Just did, let's see… there are existing records at the… Lightshield Memorial Trust hospital. He was last there... fourteen months ago for a screening. As far as I can tell, the man has no prior history pertaining to any major illnesses. I know what you are thinking, I find it odd too."

"I'm not liking this, Lux," Vi shakes her head, sense of unease mounting. "It's all too coincidental. There's something going down here and I think—"

Vi didn't get a chance to finish her thoughts.

Spying a sharp, jerky movement from the corner of her eye, she looks down in time to see her charge—barely responsive all the while—lashing out and seizing her on her right forearm before tugging her down with some surprising strength.

Catching herself from tipping forward, the Enforcer's stares down at the man with no small degree of alarm.

"Grkk."

The man's eyes are wide open now. His mouth opening and closing as he stares Vi dead in the eye, futile attempts to form words resulting in a wet, terrible gurgle bubbling out from the depths of his throat.

"Gruuk…ghrrukkk…rhhel—"

What happens next, it happens too fast.

The grip on Vi's arm tightens as Surello enters into bodily seizure, lips frothing uncontrollably while his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head till only the whites are visible.

The sound of dreadful gurgling rises to a pitch, before being unceremoniously cut off by a dull splat that rings hollow through the room.

Vi feels the warmth of something liquid hits her in the face. She doesn't need to see, the metallic tang she tastes off her lips lets her know that it's blood.

"The f—what the fuck?"

Shouting in a voice two-octaves higher than she cares to admit, the Enforcer instinctively scrambles backwards, nearly toppling a dresser over in the process. Her mind reels as she struggles to make sense of the sight before her.

Vincent Surello's fingers are still twitching; his legs still spasming, even if there's now a yawning cavity replacing the area where his abdominal walls should have been.

The worst part—there is now something, _something_ , slowly inching its way out through the hollows.

Vi feels a dull burn in her stomach as it churns.

Breath clenched tight in her throat, she watches as, in slow pumping motions, the _something_ steadily slides its body out, landing on the floor in a puddle of ichor with a wet, sickening _plop_.

Free from the confines of Surello's bodily cage, Vi is able to see it better now. Whatever the thing is, it roughly resembles a worm: plump, bloated, and about one palms' length with a wide, flat girth.

It's probably parasitic in nature, and if anything, Vi surmises that it's aggressive. Because hell, it'd just _busted the fuck_ out of a man's abdomen and is now slowly lurching its way towards her in unnatural, slithering movements.

Whatever the thing wants with her, the Enforcer cares not to find out. Hackles full on erected at this point, she proceeds to stamp the front end of the abomination straight into the ground, the moist crush of it beneath her boot heel bringing about some sense of perverted gratification.

"Vi," there's a crackle of static in her ear. "Vi?"

For a moment, the Enforcer revels in the familiar comfort of the other's voice, especially in light of the current situation.

"Vi. Are you alright?"

"Yes," she finally breathes. "Yes, I am. But Vincent Surello might not be."

"He isn't." Lux's reply is terse. "He's gone. Analyzed markers from thermal signatures off your goggles."

"You saw what happened then?" Vi asks even as she moves to check the body for a pulse.

There's a sound of faint swallow on the other end. "The last part, yes." It appears the normally staunch and stalwart girl has been unnerved as well.

"First responders would be arriving on scene soon, Vi. That thing—whatever it was you've stomped on, I need you to retrieve it. We can't risk a cover up, or even the chance of the police botching up here."

Vi looks down at the mess of squashed bits smeared across the carpet a few ways from Surello's body.

"Got it," she says, albeit not before cursing colorfully under her breath.

 _Damn fucking nuts._

This isn't turning out to be a good day.

 **Lux's Base, Heart of Noxian Tunnels – 3.02 a.m.**

The golden girl did not give much away when Vi dragged herself back to base.

True to her usual stoic demeanor, she took one look at the red on Vi's attire and promptly directed her to the medical area without so much as a word.

Still, the telltale signs are there if one knows where to look. And from the stiff set of Lux's jaw, to the slight darkening of her storm-blue eyes, Vi senses that the loss of life this night has fazed the girl far more than she lets on.

Vi understands. Death is something they are no strangers to. Vi herself has seen her fair share of deaths while working the beat, and yet, no matter how many times she finds herself exposed to it, it doesn't ever get any easier. And tonight, she'd failed to prevent a death from happening right under her nose.

Unforeseen circumstances. That is what the whole night can be boiled down to.

The Sinister Blade appearing had been unexpected, and Surello harboring some kind of bio-organism in his body is something Vi could have never foreseen in a million years. Nonetheless, it doesn't change the outcome of things. She failed. They failed. And things could have gone better.

 _Well. No shit._ Vi is thinking, jaws clenching as she threads a line of suture along the fresh wound acquired from her earlier confrontation with the Sinister Blade.

At the moment, the Enforcer sits perched atop a black coral bench of galvanized steel, surrounded by large bottles of isopropyl, sterile gauze and other emergency medical supplies. She is trying her utmost to patch herself up, but is making a downright awful mess of things, in all honesty. The size and distance of her stitchings along the wound edge are neither consistent nor aesthetically pleasing, but then again, Vi has never been that good at sewing. _  
_  
In need of a temporary distraction from the frustration and discomfort, she lets her eyes wander to the blonde figure seated at the far end of the room, lips pressed in a hard, thin line as she stares fixatedly at one of the multiple monitor displays before her.

 _Now, where have I seen that look before?_ Vi muses mirthlessly as her suture needle once again pierces flesh. _Lux and Cait would get along well,_ she reckons, watching as Lux's slender fingers flashes at a lightning-fast pace across the keyboard.

The supercomputer Lux is currently seated at is one beast of a system. To Vi's knowledge, it's a custom-made built the girl designed herself.

At a glance, the set up consists of a two-rack system with a multi-core processor connected to three large panels of high definition flat screen monitors, with each panel serving a separate function.

The rightmost panel is where Lux keeps track of the comings and goings in the city with relation to police and emergency bandwidth. The leftmost, and biggest panel, is dedicated to city surveillance and constantly shows a grid of four-by-four surveillance footage taken from city and traffic cameras scattered throughout; these images cycle to varying spots in the city at periodic intervals. The mid-panel is where Lux conducts most of her work and research, which entails hacking into other systems whenever necessary.

The technology involved in the built is cutting edge; most of the primary parts must have cost a bundle to acquire, and Vi wagers it must have taken a bit of time to put the whole system together, especially if Lux had gone at it alone, in secret, without help. The outcome is rather impressive, and much the same can be said about the nature of the base itself.

When Lux first trusted her enough to bring her into the folds (it took about five months, and another two and a half for Vi to learn her identity), she had been awed by the extent of Lux's dedication, not to mention, the substantial amount of money, devoted to her cause. **  
**  
From what the girl told her, it'd taken her nearly three years to set the place up into what it is today, when before it'd been nothing more than a large cavernous hole.

According to Lux's myriad of charts (there had been several drafts: a second, a third, and subsequently, a tenth), said cavernous hole lies right beneath the heart of Noxus—hence its name: the Noxian tunnels—and branches out into an extensive nexus of underground passageways of varying sizes that ultimately converge to hidden entry points at different locations in the city (perhaps even the outskirts).

Much of these passageways are still unexplored. There's simply too many, and too confusing. Lux had warned Vi about venturing out into uncharted areas, given how easily one can go astray; even now, she sends out drones periodically to mark out routes as well as to find exit points. So far, she has only managed to uncover two concealed openings leading out to Noxus and the Demacia district.

The discovery of a labyrinth deep beneath the streets of Valoran had been shocking, to say the least. Vi had absolutely no inkling of its existence prior to her collaboration with Lux. The tunnels did not show up on any existing blue prints or city plans, and a perusal through the yellowed books and archives that documented Valoran's turbid history yielded no results either **.** The tunnels appear as good as lost.

 _How then, did Lux come across it?_

Lux was never that specific about the details. All she told Vi was that she followed up on some obscure pointer that eventually led her to the location of one of the concealed openings starting from the Demacia end. It then took her months of tenuous exploring, as well as sending out various drones—many of which had gotten lost in the process—to stumble upon the cavern (or the heart of the tunnels, as Lux likes to call it) where their base is currently located.

The heart itself has an expanse slightly smaller than that of a soccer field. It consists of three distinct chambers—the North, East and South wings—elevated around a rough circular pool of natural spring deposit filled with water so pristine, it sparkles a bright green even in the dim lowlights of the cave.

All wings are installed with a temperature regulator—powered by the cavern's own working generator—in order to combat the dank cavern conditions. The North and South wings are immediately accessible from one of three main passages that lead into the heart, but the East wing, however, is only accessible via a raised stone walkway connected from both the North and South sides.

Lux spends most of her time in the North wing, since that is where her supercomputer is housed. The machine sits at the left-most end of the wing, taking up substantial space, while the other end consists of a medical area (essentially a bench) and a small pantry (with much of the food being either dried or preserved).

The East wing is the smallest of the three, and is built with the purpose of serving as a detainment unit. To Vi's knowledge, the unit has never actually been used before, and in her opinion, its security could afford to be more robust.

The final, and largest wing serves as the base's garage as well as a place dedicated to Lux's other high-tech equipment. At one end of the wing parked a small row of motorbikes; unmarked and painted a shade of uniform matted black. Adjacent to this sits a single, low-riding, armored vehicle—similarly black and unmarked—the make of which, Vi is not entirely sure of, but has a nagging suspicion that it may well be a military prototype now defunct. How Lux came to have it in her possession, Vi had been immensely curious back then. Granted, everything soon became a little less _unbelievable_ once they made a mutual disclosure of identity (although Vi suspects Lux had known hers from the start).

Imagine Vi's reaction when she found out that the vigilante who contacted her with offers of partnership turned out to be _the_ Luxanna Crownguard of the Crownguard fortune.

For the uninitiated, the Crownguards count amongst the wealthiest families in the city of Valoran, and months ago if someone had told Vi that the frivolous, hard-partying _bimbo_ of the Crownguard fortune is secretly a masked vigilante by night—and only the most dedicated of them—she would have shrieked her head off laughing.

 _But then again. That's the thing about people in this City. They tend to surprise you, and people are often not who they say they are_.

Vi of all people should know this.

Finishing up on the last of her stitches, the Enforcer reaches for the pair of suture scissors lying on a surgical tray, grimacing as she snips the thread a few lengths shy of the knot. Examining her handiwork, she ultimately decides it's a far cry from even being barely decent, but it'll have to do. **  
**  
Zipping herself back up, she pads over to where the blonde is seated, fingers still working relentlessly on the keyboard.

"You sure that won't become infected?" The blonde speaks without looking up.

"Feels fine."

"Did you debride the wound beforehand?"

Vi isn't quite sure she knows what 'debride _'_ even means. Then again, she isn't quite sure she wants to tell that to Lux.

"Yeah, sure," she mutters, quickly changing the subject: "Have you managed to track the mystery van?"

"Not exactly," Lux frowns while squinting at a grid of numbers rolling off her monitor screen. "I tracked the van to Zaun. Cameras in Zaun are sparse. Sparser than in Noxus or Bilgewater. It seems that beyond the limits of Sector 15, City Hall don't even bother installing cameras at periodic intervals, or any cameras at all, for that matter. I managed to track the van as far as Sump Street before I lost it completely."

"No exact location then."

"No. Only a general location, but the area covered is much too extensive."

"The Sinister Blade mentioned a name—"

" _Singed_. She used a male pronoun too."

"Any idea who he might be then?"

"I ran the name through the databases. Nothing."

"Sounds like a street name, like the ones they are fond of giving when one signs up for the Noxian Mob Membership," Vi's expression turns thoughtful. "Though I'm not sure I've ever heard of the name 'Singed'. Not from my sources, not from my days working Vice."

"Same."

"Want me to ask around?"

"As the Enforcer or as a detective?" Lux asks, throwing a quick sideway glance at Vi. "To be honest, I prefer neither. No offense, but you lack subtlety, and I rather not have anyone know we're poking around."

"None taken, I suppose. You know, if we are hitting dead ends, the Sinister Blade can be a good place to start. She showed up at Surello's apartment right before the bad goes down. I'm thinking at the very least, she knows something about Pharmex."

"I was thinking the same. Based on traffic surveillance footage, she went after the van but lost them early on, right around the corner of fifth and sixth on Riverside. I'm guessing she doesn't know where they are holing up either," Lux pauses to massage her temples. "I managed to track her back to an apartment complex located at 22nd Bowry Street in Piltover. She was trying to be careful, made a couple of detours and stopped once to change at an alley. Well, there are significantly more cameras in Piltover, so that was unfortunate for her, but very helpful for me."

"Can you uncover her identity?"

"I was running through the profiles of tenants living at the Bowry Street complex. One of the profiles, in particular, raised a red flag."

With a click-clack of a key, Lux brings up an e-document on the central monitor along with a picture of a scanned passport.

"Meet Elizabeth Dennings. Moved in three weeks prior and paid the mandatory six months lease, full, in cash. Looks familiar to you?" Lux asks, while proceeding to enlarge the profile picture on the passport.

Vi studies the woman on the screen.

The photo appears to be taken under dim-lighting, and shows a brunette with a small, oval-shaped face and a pleasant smile framed by a set of well-defined cheekbones.

"Not too sure. Could be. The facial structure looks similar... her eyes though, they are hazel. The Sinister-whatever's were something like a sea-green."

"Contacts, perhaps? In any case, Ms Dennings here is squeaky clean. I can't find her anywhere, no records, no relatives, and not so much as a parking ticket."

"Fits the pattern of a forged identity," Vi says. "You think we should pay her a visit? I'm not sure she'll appreciate us showing up at her place."

"Well, she certainly won't appreciate _you_ showing up, now, would she. She did threaten to kill you." Lux swivels around in her chair such that she is now face-to-face with Vi. "Speaking of, mind telling me what happened earlier?"

"Nothing much to say. You saw what happened. The woman came out of nowhere. Her circumstances seemed suspicious and—"

"And you attacked her."

"She might not have pulled the first punch, blondie, but my instincts told me she was about to."

"Mm," Lux hums. "You could be right on that count. But I can't say I'm a fan of your ' _punch first, think later_ ' approach. The thing you brought back, for example. I would have preferred if the sample came back alive, or at the very least, less _mangled_."

Vi runs her fingers sheepishly through her hair, her fake hair. "That was my bad. Tell ya what, I'll keep what you say in mind."

"Please do." Lux swivels back to her computer.

"Speaking of the worm-thing, what do you intend to do with it?"

The bio-sample currently sits in a specialized containment unit in the South wing.

"Don't worry about that, I know someone who can help."

 **Soraka's Bungalow, Demacia District – 5.01 a.m.** **  
** _  
'Tap, tap.'_

There's soft tapping on the window.

Soraka's nose twitches as she tosses over in her bed.

Perhaps it's her imagination. Her bedroom is all the way up on the third floor of her residence.

' _Tap, tap_.'

She wraps the blankets tighter around her body and burrows her face deeper into the lush comforts of her pillow.

' _Tap, tap._ '

The dark-haired woman groans.

 _It's not going_ _away_ _. Why isn't it going away?_

Eyes peeking open, she rolls over to cast a bleary glance at the window, and… almost has a start.

Perched on the narrow balcony outside, a willowy figure looms stark against the pale starlight, gloved fingers rapping lightly on the floor-to-ceiling crystal panes.

It takes more than a few seconds for the shock to fully register, and when it does, Soraka bolts upright, haze of sleep falling away with her silken sheets.

 _Oh my._

It's been awhile since she's last had a visit like this.

Heart speeding up involuntarily, the woman gets out of bed and pads over to the windows, deft fingers working to unlock the panes before sliding them open to let in her early morning visitor.

"Has it been so long that you've forgotten to use the front door?" She jibes, clutching the front of her slip tighter to her chest when a chilly wind nestles through the window gap.

She spies a small upturn at the corner of her visitor's lips as she steps in, but her expression remains hard to read otherwise. _Unsurprising_. Considering the black tinted visor partially obscuring her features.

 _That wasn't there the last time_. Soraka notes as she eyes the woman up and down. _The outfit is completely different too_ _._

Nonetheless, there's a degree of familiarity in the way the visitor carries herself, leaning easily against the white marbled walls as she withstands the scrutiny of Soraka's gaze.

"I thought you like it when I visit like this." The tone is crisp. The voice, with its clear and assured quality, is familiar. "What was it you said? Thrilling."

Soraka finds herself smiling.

"This is nice," She quips, gesturing to the woman's figure. "I must say I'm not used to seeing you this way. Weren't you always in bits and pieces when you came knocking, asking me to patch you up?"

The visitor chuckles then, a sound soft and dulcet.

"That will probably come in due time. Right now? I need a favor."

"Why, anything for the infamous Star Guardian."

There's a short pause.

"Actually, it's Luminos now."

 _Oh._

Soraka's brow arches, but she doesn't say a word.

That would explain the changes in costume then, and the overall… shift in demeanor.

The old Star Guardian had radiated a more jovial vibe. Something Soraka thinks could be partly attributed to her old attire. It was more girlish (or was it _garish_?) back then, modeled after something akin to those magical girl costumes certain adolescents are (so inexplicably) drawn to.

She chuckles internally at the memory.

This new Star Guardian—no—this new _Luminos_ seems more somber somehow. More wearied.

Her costume—a viridescent one piece with strategically placed armor platings—is certainly far more practical and appropriate, even if it marks her with an aura of intimidation. But perhaps that's the point.

Five years is a long time, a little too long for anyone to remain stagnant. And that's the thing with people, isn't it? They change, their circumstances change, everyone is always becoming someone else. For a moment, Soraka lets her mind wanders as she thinks about how old the vigilante before her really is. There had been ample speculations back then, and five years ago, she couldn't have been a year older than nineteen—

There's a sound of light rustling as Luminos rummages through the small black knapsack slung across her shoulder. Digging deep, the girl produces a palm-sized petri dish and holds it out to the dark-haired woman, who tentatively accepts.

"Why, you shouldn't have," Soraka deadpans. "I didn't prepare any presents for you." Squinting, she brings the dish up against the moonlight.

There's a slab of something purple lying in it. Something purple and _oozing_.

"What is it?" She asks, nonplussed.

"I was hoping you would tell me."

Soraka finds her brows knitting.

"I could, but I'll need to run some tests." Lowering the dish, she finds Luminos gazing at her—actually, it's hard to tell with the visor. "The usual then, I suppose?"

The blonde nods.

From their past dealings, the usual implies confidential, top priority treatment with no questions asked. And while Soraka turns the transparent dish over in her hands, she fleetingly muses how a prominent researcher like herself feels so inclined to help out a stray vigilante despite her hectic schedule. Then again, Luminos did save her life once before. They have a history together—well, sort of. Kind of.

 _Besides, there's always been something about this woman._

"Star—Luminos?" Soraka starts.

The blonde turns around, one foot already half out the window. There's slight tensing in her body when Soraka leans in close. So close, the dark-haired woman could smell the faint scent of sandalwood and spice on her. But, the blonde does not shy away and taking that as assent, Soraka brushes her lips lightly against the vigilante's cheeks. The act is chaste, barely even a kiss.

The researcher pulls back.

Moonlight streams through the waves of the visitor's soft blonde hair, and although Soraka can't see her eyes, she imagines they are hard. This woman in front of her is no longer that same girl she knew all those years ago.

The blonde turns away.

"Stay safe," Soraka says.

But the vigilante is already gone.

* * *

 **A/N:**

1\. Sorry for the late update.  
2\. Certain technical aspects of the story deviate from reality.  
3\. The whole story deviates from reality.  
4\. Lux's superhero costume is meant to resemble her Commando skin.  
5\. Soraka's appearance is meant to resemble her Divine skin.  
6\. Chapter titles are provisional.  
7\. Ionia is not part of Valoran City. For the sake of future plotlines, it's located on a separate continent. The same can be said for the Freljord.  
8\. Thank you for reading.


End file.
